Lyric's Journey
by Reiko Shiramori
Summary: A young woman sets out on a simple journey...but will she find what she was expecting?


_It was a normal day in Coldon when I discovered the summons. I suppose it started when Runic had come to me in need of healing after saving a group of travelers from the bandits that had attacked them on the roadside..._

I took my friend's hand in a comforting gesture.

"Runic...," I traced the jagged cuts on his forearms with my fingers ever so lightly. "You have to stop this. I will not let you keep hurting yourself, even if you are trying to protect the village." I ducked my head, trying to see his face. "Please. For me?"

He flinched and I realized my error.

"Okay, forget about the 'for me' part then," I sighed, reaching for my inks and brushes. "This should help with the healing process." I dabbed a bit of the reddish orange ink onto my brush and painted a delicate butterfly on the inside of his wrist. Runic looked thankful, and I smiled at him. "When it wears off, just stop by and I'll paint you a new one."

Runic stood to leave, rolling up his sleeve more securely so that the ink could dry. He stopped just short of pulling back the tent flap.

"...thank you, Lyric. I'll be back."

I sighed as he left in a rush. Runic has been like this almost as long as I can remember. I turned my back on the opening of my tent, peering into my many dishes to find something to rinse my brush in. Upon rinsing my brush, I found something curious tucked under a few bottles of ink. I attempted to brush flecks of dried ink off the worn paper. The paper bore my name on one side, and a very smudged letter on the other. The corner bearing the author's signature had soaked up a good amount of green ink, and was, for the most part, unreadable save the 'ic' that was typically found in names of those born in Coldon. I tried my best to decipher the smeared writing.

Artisan Magess Lyric vi Coldan:

My dear niece, I find myself in need of your assistance once again. I'm afraid scouts of the Order of the Red Claw have been spotted in the village. Only a neutral Arcane Master will be able to stop the upcoming conflict between the Red Claw and the Brotherhood. Please, niece, this is a matter most urgent. I beg that you move swiftly, for I fear that the villagers are in danger.

May your days be many and your troubles few,  
Leadeer Pathic vi Rodar  
I rubbed my eyes, having tired them out from reading the messy text. Whatever the message was saying, it was urgent. Perhaps the scribe Ziru could help me decipher the message...he always seemed to have ideas about the old parchments that were brought to him.

I slipped on my sandals and left my tent, shading my eyes against the sunlight and pulling up my headscarf so I wouldn't get sunburnt. People milled around, going about their daily lives in a lethargic fashion, some greeting me as I passed. When I reached his home I found that Ziru had, quite predictably, locked himself in his study. I knocked on his door with as much authority as I could muster.

"I'm too busy for visitors...leave!"

His answer was sharp, and the annoyance was obvious. I sighed, flicking non-existent dust off my robes.

"Ziru," I said blandly, "It's Lyric. I have something I need you to look at."

I heard a loud crash from within the room and the door swung open, revealing my flustered friend. He looked at me expectantly, sliding his glasses off and stepping aside to let me enter the room. I sat in the spare chair that sat in front of his desk and laid the stained parchment on his desk. Ziru returned his glasses to his nose and peered down at the parchment. Soon, his eyes widened.

"Lyric...you need to travel to Rodar, and quickly. According to this letter, The Order of the Red Claw plans to use the city as a battleground in their strife with the Brotherhood," he slipped off his glasses and looked up at me solemnly, "Your uncle, Leader Pathic, has requested that you be the one to help stop the conflict." I blinked in surprise. Why would I be the one summoned for such a task? I was neither a great warrior nor a diplomat.

I took a deep breath, aware of my obvious troubled expression. Perhaps if I were older, if I had more time to prepare, if I was a stronger spellcaster...maybe then I could become the hero that Rodar needed. But as I was, I was far too young and inexperienced. But then again...

But then again there were people who needed me. If I could not stop the imminent battle, I could at least heal the wounded. I could create magic barricades. Yes, if I could not stop the battle, I could make sure that the damage it caused was minimal.

I offered Ziru a tight, reluctant smile.

"I'll g-"  
"Lyric!"

I was cut off by Runic, who stood in the doorway to Ziru's study, looking worried. Ziru immediately stood, anger clouding his features. He and Runic had never gotten along well. Their personalities simply did not mesh.

"What," Ziru seethed, "Do you think you are doing in MY home while I am doing CONFIDENTIAL work?" He glared up at Runic menacingly, "I don't care that you are the leader's son. You are TRESPASSING."

He bellowed the last word, and I carefully shooed Runic out of the house. "I'll be done consulting with Ziru soon," I assured him, "So have some patience. I'll speak with you soon." After he had left, I turned back to Ziru. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, friend," I said gently, "He meant no harm, I am sure of it." We stood in silence for a moment, before Ziru handed me a sheet of crisp parchment, which he had written the complete letter on.

"Go safely, my friend," he said, grasping my hand firmly, "May your days be many and your troubles few." I dipped my head appreciatively, and left his home ready, if not still a bit reluctant, to begin my journey.

Runic was waiting for me when I stepped out of the house, wearing the same worried expression he had been when he had revealed himself in Ziru's study. He fell into step with me as I made my way back to my tent.

"You really plan to undertake this journey?" he asked, shooting me a questioning look, "You are not accustomed to the battlefield. I fear for you." I smiled slightly at his concern, but his worry did nothing to my resolve. "I have family in Rodar, Runic. They, if not everyone else in the city, need help. Help that I am willing to provide." I sped up a bit, reaching my dwelling a few meters ahead of him and throwing aside the tent flap with more force than necessary. I immediately began to gather the things I would need for the trip, making a less-than-tidy pile in the center of my floorspace. I heard Runic enter with less force than I had.

"Lyric...," he began, a warning edge on his voice. I cut in before he could continue, "I do not want to hear it, Runic. I've decided to do this, so I need to do it." I slammed the ink jar I was holding onto a nearby table and it shattered in my hand. I leapt back from the purple-and-glass mess, hissing in pain. The palm of my left hand now sported a small but deep gash. I sighed at my own stupidity, searching for a brush and some of the reddish orange ink I had used to heal Runic earlier. I circled the cut in little swirling vines and waited, watching as the flesh knit back together seamlessly.

"I never get bored of watching your magic do its work," Runic commented, now organizing my pile of belongings into subcategories, "Hey, do you have room in your bag for all this?" He gestured at all the items I had chosen. I hefted my work satchel at him, and he caught it easily. It was a sturdy thing, made of stiff leather with brass buckles, and lines of runes against water damage and fire trailed around the edges.

I finally shooed Runic out so I could prepare for my journey. When all was ready, I settled my pack onto my back, picked up my staff, and headed for the road. I was mildly surprised to find Runic waiting for me at the guard station. He too was outfitted for a journey.

"Are you going somewhere too?" I asked, nodding to the guard as I passed, "I don't recall you announcing any travel plans." Runic looked unsure how to react for a moment before blurting:

"I'm coming with you."

I stopped in surprise, turning to face him. He looked nervously around, not meeting my eyes. I sighed. There was no use in protesting. If I did, he would just follow me at a distance. I turned back to the road and continued walking, leaving him there, confused.

"You didn't tell me I couldn't come with you," he said, voice teetering between awe and happiness, "Normally you would have yelled at me." I smiled. He was exaggerating, hoping to elicit a response. "I don't yell, I just get flustered," I corrected, "And I saw no point in stopping you from traveling along with me. Just so long as you don't take me back to Coldon while I sleep." I punctuated the last bit with a meaningful look, and Runic looked a bit sheepish.

We traveled until it began to get too dark to see. Even the braizers that marked the road were not much of a help when there was almost no moon. Runic found a clearing a good distance east of the road where we could camp, and I built a small fire with magic.

I did not sleep that night. The forest was so different from my home in Coldon. I found myself jumpy and paranoid, reacting to every noise, from the fire crackling to the owl in the tree nearest to me. I could hardly get rid of the feeling that I was out of place here, and intruder.

The next day passed on the road; we stopped only when Runic spotted a group of bandits in the distance. After hiding out on the roadside until they were a safe distance away, we continued our journey.

As we got closer and closer to Rodar, it was clear that something was wrong. I identified the twisted iron spikes in the road as crow's feet, made to stop approaching horsemen. Further down the road, the signs of a battle were evident. The dirt was mashed and furrowed, bearing blood stains in some places and a few splintered spearheads in others. But it was not until Runic found the body of a dead warrior that we truly realized what had gone wrong.

The warrior's face was smashed almost past human recognition. His nose had been brutally broken, and he was missing many teeth. Angry welts occupied his skin. But the most significant detail was the strange, pulsing flesh that clung to his breastplate.

It was not his own, nor that of a human at all. It would not yield to my hunting knife, and the only way to 'kill' it was to burn it with magic. Under the strange flesh-beast, the man's breastplate was scratched in a way to obvious to be a mistake or coincidence.

Especially because whoever had killed him knew my name.

Heed this corpse as a warning, Artisan Magess Lyric. While you may have escaped my wrath in the past, you will no longer enjoy such luck.

Runic searched the man for any sort of identification, but he only was able to turn up the man's broken sword and his wedding ring. I suddenly felt sick. This man had a wife, and probably children too. Who would be cruel enough to kill a father? I vomited on the side of the road until I was coughing up bile. Runic and I traveled in silence for the rest of the day.

I was able to sleep that night, exhausted mentally and physically. But even then, my sleep was interrupted by nightmares of corrupted memories. I woke often, images of death and a mage surrounded by flesh-beasts flashing across my vision.

On our third day of travel, we discovered the second threat carved into the flesh of a young magess who lay in the middle of the road, barely alive. She murmured the same word, over and over: Kaz.

When I am done with you, you will wish I had killed you sooner, Magess Lyric.

I shivered at the ominous message, but turned my attention to the dying woman. When she had healed enough to speak more than just the name of her attacker, she introduced herself as Naleru vi Nurahu, a city far south of Coldon. She had been traveling alone for days, she told us, answering the call of a wealthy merchant who had hired her as a Weather-Worker on his vessel. She had spent the last two days lying in the road after the attack, slowly dying.

I healed Naleru as quickly as my spells would allow, but she was not in traveling condition until the next day. She accepted the invitation to travel with Runic and I, and we set off towards Rodar once again. I grew curious as we traveled.

"When we found you, all you would say was "Kaz"," I reminded her, "Who exactly is Kaz, assuming that he is a person?" Naleru visibly shuddered. "Kaz is a Brood Mage," she said quietly, as though just saying the name would cause him to appear, "He has also been called a Flesh Mage, the only of his kind. He shows his victims no mercy. He was the one that attacked me..."

She trailed off, touching the scars on her arms that still read the threat on my life and happiness. I became angry. So it was a Brood Mage that caused the carnage Runic and I had stumbled upon not two days ago. I vowed that Naleru's suffering would not go unheeded.

The next day, we reached Rodar. Surprisingly, everything was normal. The townspeople went about their daily lives, the guards welcomed us to the city, and and there was no conflict between the factions as stated in my letter. I quickly grew suspicious of the peace and set out to find my uncle and confront him.

I knocked on the door to his home that evening, alone. Runic had taken Naleru to a professional healer to make sure she was healing well, and I had convinced them that I would be fine alone.

No one answered the door, so I knocked again. This time, I heard a number of bolts slide open as more locks than I remember clicked open. A tired-looking maid peered out at me before recognizing who I was.

"Ah, Mistress Lyric," she said, forcing a smile, "How nice to see you again. Your uncle has been expecting you." I followed her inside, noting the strange lack of light. The curtains were drawn, and the fireplaces were not lit. The only light came from candles, which cast eerie shadows on the walls. I waited at the foot of the grand staircase as the maid went to fetch my uncle. I had just sat down on one of the steps when I heard the clump of boots on wood. I stood, brushing the dust of travel off of my clothes as best I could. But it was not my uncle who now stood in front of me, smirking like a cat who has just caught its prey.

"Lyric, so good to see you again," his voice was not harsh like I expected it to be. It flowed, making me feel both more comfortable and more wary at the same time.

"Kaz," I said, testing out the name, "How nice to finally meet you. Though I suppose the Order and the Brotherhood won't be joining us?" My own voice sounded rough in my ears, and I slipped a hand into my satchel. If I could get ahold of some ink and a brush...

Kaz' eyes narrowed, dark irises reflecting the candlelight. "Your magic won't help you, dear" smile was evident in his voice "Not here, not where you can't see." I took a step back, uncapping a jar of ink and haphazardly dunking a brush in. Another step back. Another...

I stepped on something soft, something slightly elastic that tried to attach itself to my sandaled foot. I leapt off of it, and Kaz laughed. He didn't even laugh like one would expect a homicidal maniac to laugh. It was almost contagious, almost pleasant, save the bitter tinge that left a bad taste in my mouth.

"I see you've found the Creep," he laughed, gesticulating dramatically, "Just something to make sure you don't try to leave too soon." He grinned, seemingly proud of his idea. "You see, I called you here because I have something I need from you..." he caught my wary expression "Oh, you'll be reimbursed for your services, certainly. What do you want? I can give you anything you want if you help me."

My throat was dry, but somehow I responded.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, surprising myself in that my voice was strangely level. Kaz grinned. "I knew you'd be helpful," he said triumphantly. "I knew you'd remember me," he added, almost under his breath. We stood less than a meter apart now, staring each other down until Kaz raised a hand and closed one of my eyes with his fingers. I raised a hand to knock him back, but something held my arm in place, something that pulsed as though it had a heart...

I struggled as the flesh-beasts grabbed and held me, effectively immobilizing me where I stood. Kaz smiled that cat-smirk that seemed to be his trademark, and traced the outline of my eye with his fingers.

"I can't promise this won't hurt," he said with mock thoughtfulness, "But do try not to make too much noise."

His fingers were suddenly in my eye socket, pulling. I passed out before I could scream.

I woke up exactly where I had lost consciousness. The curtains were open now, and pale sunlight flooded the room. Kaz looked up as me from where he sat a few meters away. The first thing that I noticed was his mismatched gaze.

Before, both his eyes had been dark and murky. Now, my own bright blue eye, the one he had stolen, lolled in his right eye socket, seemingly discontent with its new body. I found my eyelid sewn shut when I tried to open it.

"I see you're awake," Kaz said, rather unnecessarily, "Although I expected more from you. I thought you were stronger than that." He looked mildly disappointed. "Thank you for the eye, though. My old one was going blind."

I had no words for what I had just witnessed. I simply gaped at him.

I knew his manner of speech was familiar. Now, all I had to do was see him in the light to understand.

"B-brother?" I questioned, remaining eye wide with disbelief. No, no, please, you can't be my brother...

Kaz' face softened so suddenly I was afraid it would fall off his skull. He reached up, wrapping his arms around me and burying his face in my shoulder. "Hello, little sister," he mumbled, his warm tears soaking into my robes, "I've missed you." He drew back, tears streaming out of his own eye, blood leaking from the one he had stolen. His expression changed as he brushed his thumb along the stitches in my eyelid. He almost looked...regretful.

"Garic," I said, watching him hang his head, "Brother I-"

His head snapped up at the mention of his real name, his expression troubled and wild. He shook his head, as though to get rid of a thought he didn't like.

"No," he said quietly, "No. Don't call me that. I don't deserve that name. I was angry at everyone. At father for dying in the war, at mother for running away, at you for being so helpless...I don't think I can be part of your family anymore." He bowed his head. "I wanted to kill you, that's how angry I was. And you know what?"

He paused for a moment before his hands, which had been resting heavily on my shoulders, wrapped around my neck.

"I still do."

His hold grew tighter, cutting off my air supply. I gasped for breath, clawing at the flesh-beasts that held me in place. I was on the verge of blacking out when a loud crash distracted Kaz, causing him to loosen his grip.

"LYRIC!"

Runic and Naleru raced into the room, Runic with his sword drawn and Naleru already chanting spells. The telltale rune circle appeared around the flesh-beasts holding me before they combusted and dropped me in a heap on the floor. I coughed violently, free of Kaz' stranglehold, but bleeding where the flesh-beasts had latched onto me.

My two companions stubbornly dealt with whatever Kaz decided to throw their way. I wished I could help them somehow...

I caught sight of my inks and brushes, scattered around my satchel. I dragged myself towards them, wincing as my bloodied legs dragged across the flagstones. I finally reached a jar of blue ink and dunked my fingers in it, not bothering to look for a brush. I smudged a set of runes on the back of my hand and pushed myself up. I stumbled towards Kaz almost drunkenly.

I had one shot at beating him, and the odds were against me. But if I made it...

Naleru and Runic seemed to realize what my plan was, and took action. Runic directed Kaz' attention away from me, while Naleru sent ice creeping across the floor to freeze him in place. I ran, a slow stumbling run, towards the man I had once called my older brother, catching him off guard and slamming my palm right over his heart.


End file.
